A Boy Called Michael
by P.J Gonzales
Summary: About a boy constantly daydreaming an imagination so real he is transported to another world of which he only knows exists. Caught up in the fun of it all, whilst around his adult superiors, he faces the subtle consequences of the real world.


_**Michael**_

The screams and shrills of a dozen children filled the playground with a faint echoing sound of joyous emotion. Running wild both the children and their emotions are liberated from the shackles of the classroom's restrictions appointed by their omnipotent teacher. The heat of the sun seared through the air like an arrow to its bulls-eye yet the impenetrable heat did not dismay the tiny young bodies as they pranced around happily in the luminous sunlight. Frantically they surged through the playground desperately seeking to fulfill their appetite for playfulness - attracted to the shear fun of it all like bees to a bee hive.

Swinging, sliding, climbing, twisting, bending – an infinite amount of choices to choose from to keep every child occupied. One child in particular, Michael, on the swings completely embodied the sense of joy and jubilance already expressed by his fellow companions. Wide-eyed with excitement and a smile from one ear to the other, the wind gushed through his fiery red hair - Michael as if possessed by this infectious adrenaline rush screamed of pleasure. His little heart beat a thousand beats a minute grew to fifty as the sound that all the children were dreading all lunchtime arrived - the bell.

Soon a herd of children rampaged down the playground and to their classrooms, everyone except one, Michael. Michael, looking slightly depressed slumped slowly to his classroom straggling behind his fellow classmates. He didn't want lunch time to end. The miniature students lined up into two straight lines eagerly waiting to start the lesson. Their little faces reddened with exhaustion. Behind the heads of the little children, the teacher popped up as if from nowhere smiled benevolently at them.

She was a small woman, short and diminutive like a mouse. She wore glasses that covered almost every inch of her face with lenses as thick to match resting on a small dainty nose twitching with every syllable that left her mouth. Her squinty eyes were magnified a hundred times from their original size causing her eyes to look enormous – a pair of giant beady eyes gleaming at them. Her feeble hair, a dark fading brown, as straight as angel hair noodles, not a strand out of place, ended just below her chin with the ends curling slightly inwards. The teacher led them in the classroom and a sense of relief captivated the room as the air conditioner released them from the unbearable heat outside.

As the children sat down at their tables, Michael was last to enter the room, he slowly walked to his seat and plunged himself down into his chair. The teacher began the lesson introducing a new topic of animals in Africa as she busily wrote the phrase on the chalkboard.

"Now, class" her voice high-pitched with the occasional squeak, "today we're going to learn about animals in Africa." She said excitedly as she gave a great big smile revealing her pearly whites. She pushed play on the video player at the other end and it began playing the voiceover began speaking, "This is the meercat, looking much like a mouse it…"

The teacher stood next to the TV screen and examined the students' faces. Michael couldn't help but notice how much her face looked just like the animal on the television screen. Her quick agile movements of her head as she scanned the room moved in unison with the meercat on the TV screen. She then held the papers in her hand and lifted them to her chest as did the pack of meercat standing alert at the top of the hill against the desert horizon. Noticing that Michael seemed to be the most uninterested, she quickly scurried over to his table and as if out of nowhere popped out from under his desk.

"Hello, Michael" she greeted him as she twitched her head, "Are you enjoying the video?" Her beady eyes gazing at him in a contemplative manner.

"No!" he shouted. "I wanted to be outside playing in the playground!"

"Well, maybe if you watched the video you might find that you actually enjoy it." She said positively nodding her head vigorously.

"No!" he urged as he crossed his arms and gave her a frustrated look.

"Well, then," Knowing that she had to give a one-on-one talk to him; she led him to the corner of the room. She then proceeded to give him a deep and meaningful talk. Inevitably, Michael's mind was elsewhere. Back to his playful world; the only world he knew in existence.

He sat there looking blankly into eyes which were of a deep blue colour which resembled the colour of the beautiful clear blue sky it was at lunchtime. The sun was shining and Michael was having the time of his life. The trees surrounding the playground swayed in unison with the cool breeze. The leaves of the old eucalyptus trees shone like diamonds in the sun's protruding light as the branches of leaves danced to the rhythm of the wind. The strong smell of freshly cut grass filled the air and wafted into every child's nose.

Michael smiled. Noticing the unblocked pores which covered the surface of her nose, Michael was taken back to the sand pit where it reminded him of the numerous mounds within the pit. There he built sandcastles, tunnels and everything possibly imaginable which could be made with sand. Oh how much fun it was he thought to himself but his thoughts were interrupted by her words.

Her speech was very clear and direct and she made sure that she emphasized each last syllable of her words. Just like the monkey bars, he found it challenging to bring one arm down from one bar to the other yet despite the struggle it was fun nonetheless and it didn't stop him from persisting. Distracted by her hair, she continued to blabber on, it swayed to and fro with the swift movements of her head. Much like the movements of the swings, his most favourite equipment to play on, his eyes widened with delight and there he was, on the swings – the thrill, the excitement, the exhilaration. He loved the thrill of zooming down at fast speeds then swinging back up again, over and over again.

The teacher looked at him puzzled as he rocked on his chair as if possessed by something and a pursed grin formed his face. She tried to snap him out of his trance yet he continued to rock on his chair.

"Michael?" she asked concerned. She said it again, only louder this time, "Michael? Michael?"

"Michael!"

"Yes, Mr. Chapman?" His inner journey became a reality as his boss looked at him blankly. His colleagues sitting on the other side in the boardroom began whispering to themselves, some saying, "He's at it again…" as if it were something of routine.

"Gone to your fantasy land have you, Michael?" he said rolling his eyes.

"I'm sorry, sir" he said sympathetically straightening up his tie.

"Meeting adjourned." His boss replied.

Michael, in the body of a mature middle-aged man never became accustomed to the serious adult world in which he now lived.

Michael, returned home and closed the door behind him. Taking off his tie and placing his suitcase on the ground, he heard his wife's voice in the distance. He followed the trail of her voice to the living room where he saw his wife pointing a finger at his five year old son.

"David." She said snapping her fingers. "David Michael Thompson, are you listening to me?"

Michael's son David, merely sat there smiling, rocking on his chair.


End file.
